The Seventh June 30th

"You may be out of my sight, but not out of my mind.

You may be out of my reach, but not out of my heart.

I may mean nothing to you, but you will always be special to me."

J.U

I am proud to say that I quoted these beautiful lines not from those poets I'm a fan of, and that this well-written piece belonged to the man of my life, my Daddy. Those lines above, however, was given to me on my 14th birthday, and so it was given to my older sisters on their birthdays during the same year. All that we could think about (or at least I thought about) was "Oh, Daddy! You are such a Casanova! Just how many times you write a piece like this for a woman?"

His answer was, "Four. Shanty, Mieke, Shinta, and the sexiest, tan-skinned girl I have, you."

That didn't mean that much back then, not until he went "home". It was a bright June 30th of 2007, an ordinary Saturday morning when his last kiss landed on my forehead. "Don't skip prayers," was all he ever said. It was the day I experienced my first loss.

Though I was undoubtedly depressed to have the fate insisted me to be a sudden "head of the family" (when I was still 15 years old) with an ill mom (Mama had a stroke back then), I always remembered what Daddy said the night before he left. "Sometimes, I wonder why people feel like giving up, of which result's a suicide. Do they not have Him, The One they can lean on?"

I stupidly answered him with, "Maybe because when they pray, He doesn't answer." I remember just how mad he was at me for giving him such answer, and how actually disappointed he was.

"How can you, a daughter of an Ustadz have such idea?!" Then he said, "Allah always answer. Some of His people aren't smart enough to see His signs. How could they? I bet they don't know what those lines in the five-times-a-day prayers even mean. Do they even read the Qur'an? No. They're busy being sad and complaining. But even for those stupid people, Allah answers. It's a pity that they can't see it. Don't be a stupid one too, Nis."

That was what kept me strong the whole years. Each time I face a difficulty, deep in my heart I believe, Allah will answer. The day I lost my Dad, I asked Allah, how will my life be from there, who will take care of me, and so's and so's and on, and on. Allah answered right away, with my Uncle (from my mom's side) came to us saying, "We cannot take Kiki and her mother with us." My older sister, along with her mom (Daddy had wives lol) and her husband then welcomed me. Alhamdulillah, I live with them up until now, and heaven knows how happy I am. See? Again, Allah answered.

I'm thankful it means that I'm not one of those stupid people my Daddy talked about. Now that the 7th June 30th came, I asked Him again, "Is my Daddy doing well? Is he happy? Does he miss me?" And again, Allah answered. On the d-day, June 30th, my sister reminded me of the lines he wrote for us in one of her status updates, and that night, we couldn't help but cry.

We're doing fine, too Daddy.
It's Ramadan here.
Just like you said:
out of sight, not out of mind,
out of reach, not out of heart,
and yes, you will always be special to us too.

The sexiest, tan-skinned girl you have,

Kiki.